Operation: Titan
by Legion Blitz
Summary: The Office of Naval Intelligence, United Nations Space Command, is growing desperate with each passing year. It is 2549, two years after the Spartan II program has gone public, and ONI needs a new team for Operation: Hypodermic. T for Language/Violence
1. Teaser

ENCRYPTION CODE: GAMMA-SHIFT-X-RAY

PUBLIC KEY: N/A

FROM: CODENAME SURGEON

TO: CODENAME COALMINER

SUBJECT: OPERATION: TITAN

CLASSIFICATION: EYES ONLY

SECURITY OVERRIDE: BLACK LEVEL-IV

GHOST SERVER FILE-TRANSFER PROTOCOL (EXACTION): TRUE

AI-TOUCH PROTOCOL (VERACITY): FALSE

/FILE EXTRACTION-RECONSTITUTION COMPLETE/

/START FILE/

It appears that Section Three's project will soon come to fruition. I am, of course, speaking of Operation: Titan, which was born shortly after the Spartan II project was publicized, by the damned Section II, to boost morale among the Marine Corps, and the Inner Colonies.

Section Three has procured a former Headhunter, Lincoln, to head the squad. As he is no longer part of the Headhunters, now part of Operation: Titan, he has been granted better equipment, namely a set of MJOLNIR Mk. IV that Section Three procured from God knows where. I only hope that they managed to procure it without snagging the attention of Dr. Halsey, or they shall have another plateful of trouble resting in their hands.

In addition to the Headhunter, Section Three has decided to act upon a plan they have had in the making for years: augmentation to fully grown soldiers. They had no idea what the results will be, but I think they believe that the end result will be worth the possible casualties. Even if they lose every single "volunteer", they will be satisfied, seeing as they would then know that the procedure does not work.

Attached to this message is a list of augmentations the accepted ODSTs will be undergoing, and in addition, the end results as soon as I procure them.

/END FILE/

/ATTACHMENT 1 OF 2/

**Drug 8942-LQ99****:** A carbide ceramic ossification catalyst to make skeletons virtually unbreakable.

**Drug 88005-MX77****:** A fibroid muscular protein complex that boosted muscle density and strength.

**Drug 88947-OP24****:** A retina-inversion stabilizer drug. It boosted color and night vision capabilities.

**Drug 87556-UD61****:** Improved colloidal neural disunification solution, which in turn decreases reaction time.

/ATTACHMENT 2 OF 2/

Number of applications: 1,293

Number within genetic requirements: 274

Number accepted into Operation: Titan: 150

Number undergoing augmentation procedures: 148

Number surviving augmentation procedures: 11

As you can clearly see, the results were hardly ideal, regardless of what Section Three says. This is a far worse percentage than even the SII procedures, and perhaps worse than the SI procedures. I, for one, think that the results were disastrous, but I know that Section Three would not hesitate to pull a repeat of this scheme.

As of right now, the surviving ODSTs are adapting to the changes in their body, which were far more drastic than the changes in pubescent Spartans, so this may make up for lost years of training, in a way. These are not Spartans, however, and so they have been granted a new name. Section Three has deemed them to be Hoplites, after the citizens of Ancient Greece rising up to the call of duty.

These surviving ODSTs are to be split up into two squads, one comprised of Adam, Malcolm, Kaley, and Victoria, who will be led by Lincoln. Another five, John, Marcus, Ashley, Blaine, and David, will comprise another squad, and the final two, Laura and Magnus, are to be reassigned where deemed necessary, most likely guarding valuable members of Section Zero.

The major advantage to these augmentations is the Hoplite's ability to now wear Semi-Powered Infiltration armor (Mk. II, of course). Section Three has provided some upgrades to the suits, bringing them closer to the MJOLNIR, which is still easily the superior armor.

You shall be hearing of the accomplishments racked up by these two squads within a few months, I believe.

/END FILE/


	2. Prologue

**1203 Hours, September 7, 2549**

**Epsilon Eridani System, Military Reservation 01478-B, Reach**

The brilliant red sun, sinking through the clouds, cast a beautiful glow encompassing the entire horizon as seen from 'Camp Titan'. Twirling leaves filled the air closer to the ground, carried away on the breeze. Twisting trees bent gently with the wind, leaning towards the unnatural fence running amidst the forest, marking the boundaries of the camp.

As the wind whistled through the former hall of heroes, it filled the ears of a lone human sitting on a rocky outcrop, helmet resting on the stone beneath him. Sigh emanating from his lips, Lincoln stared off into the distance, drawing himself back into the past. Drawing himself back into that moment, ten years ago, when he dropped down to the gates of Hell itself and dragged his way out.

He gave a slight shake of his head, drenching himself out of a bog of misery and dreams. Letting out a grunt, he pushed himself up onto a single armored knee, reaching down to grab his state of the art MJOLNIR helmet from where it lay in the gravelly dirt. Using the helmet as a booster, he pushed himself up onto both legs, and stepped forward, off the edge of the short outcrop.

Followed by a light shower of pebbles mixed with soil, he fell to the ground with a dull thump, interrupting the whistling wind. Taking a step forward, he heard the sound of the new guys, Hoplites ONI called them, conversing somewhere nearby. Deciding to wait where he was for the newcomers to round the bend, he pulled his helmet over his head, letting the fasteners click into place.

The HMD sprang to life, displaying a variety of information that could mean the difference between life and death in a combat situation. His prototype VISR program flickered on before returning to standby mode, and the motion tracker sprang to life, showing four green dots moving towards him. In the top right corner, a symbol indicating the only weapon linked to his armor right now, his M6D, flashed. Right below, a series of bars displayed his vital statistics, which read as perfectly normal. And, finally, in the top left corner was a display of how many grenades he had attached to his armor at the moment: two frags, one flash, and one smoke.

From around the corner came four soldiers, two men and two women, outfitted in BDUs. The two guys laughed at a joke one of them had made the second before, probably by the smaller one, who seemed to have heard the joke before. One of the women had a bright grin seeping through, and the other just shook her head in exasperation.

The woman who had a smile plastered across her face a moment ago stepped forward, extending a hand, "Hey there. Aren't you a bit short to be a Spartan?"

Smiling just a bit under his helmet, Lincoln returned the handshake. "I'm not a Spartan II, for future reference. I'm from a different program, the Spartan III program, and we didn't receive the same augmentations. If you breathe a word of this program to anybody else, all of us will be charged, so I wouldn't spread it around."

Her smile fading slightly, she withdrew her hand. "So, you must be the Lincoln the spook mentioned earlier. I'm Lieutenant Kaley Sanders, formerly from the ODSTs. I'm the girl in charge of this rowdy lot.

"The big guy's Adam, a SCPO, and the oldest of us. He was dickin' around in the CMA before they got folded in, and he's spent more kicking blue Covenant ass than we've spent alive. He's our heavy weapons man. That smaller guy, that's Malcolm, the lonesome CPO. He's our general support man, rounded type of guy. And, lastly, this small girl here, Victoria, another SCPO, is in charge of demolitions. She may not look it, but she's a feisty one, and that shows in her work."

He nodded approvingly as the others looked him up and down, taking in the storm gray suit. He spoke up after a few seconds, "Lieutenant Commander Lincoln, NavSpecWar. I'm in command here, as you know, but I will also be our reconnaissance and sniper support."

An awkward silence hung in the air before Adam broke it in his gruff voice, "Any idea when we'll be receiving our first mission?"

"No idea. We'll probably be contacted by a spook involved in Operation: Hypodermic beforehand. They'll be wanting our squad to do their little collecting work, although, we may end up on different missions instead.

"If there's nothing else, go get accustomed to your new SPI suits. You'll have to get used to doing all of your maneuvers in them, but I assure you, they're not gonna hinder you. The armory's open for some shooting, too. Dismissed!"

Lincoln clambered back up onto the rock where he had been sitting before, whittling away the time till their first assignment. He pulled his helmet off, lying down in the sparse grass, gazing up at the stars starting to poke through the dusky sky. As the sound of the other soldiers died down, Lincoln absorbed the harsh beauty of Reach, gently illuminated by the rising moon.

He let his final words of the night drift in a soft murmur, "I really am not the kind of guy that people look to for a leader. Bullshit decision on Section Three's part."


End file.
